


pure sweet violent hearts

by newboldtrue



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newboldtrue/pseuds/newboldtrue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura reflects on Carmilla throughout the months. It's some sort of falling, she knows, but she can't quite figure out what kind of falling it is.</p>
<p>She's doesn't know what's there at the bottom when you stop falling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pure sweet violent hearts

**Author's Note:**

> This is split into four parts, each occurring at a different, subsequent point in the story. Inspired by countless text posts from tumblr, which I thank for tearing my heart to shreds.

_Doubt thou the stars are fire,_

_Doubt that the sun doth move,_

_Doubt truth to be a liar,_

_But never doubt I love._

_-Hamlet, Act II scene ii_

-

Laura hates how she can’t look at the night sky without thinking of _her_ now. She’s caught somewhere between hating her luck for getting assigned to someone who is _literally_ the worst roommate in the world, and maybe—just a tiny bit—always thinking about her.

Nothing makes any sense. Carmilla is horrible. She takes Laura’s things (especially her pillow. Of all things.), she doesn’t clean, she’s not receptive to criticism, and she’s just, overall, a horrible person. But Laura has eyes, of course. She hates to admit that, _yes_ , okay, maybe Carmilla is on the higher end of the looks scale, and _yes_ , her eyeliner is miraculously always on-point. Not everyone can pull off leather pants like that. Her eyes can also see the dirty dishes and hair clogging the shower drain, though, and she’s right back to square one.

Laura doesn’t know what it is that keeps her so entranced.

What does Carmilla see in the stars? Laura sighs, shuts her laptop, and swivels her chair around. She makes her way to the fridge, cursing Carmilla for the umpteenth time as she trips over yet _another_ pair of dark jeans.

She pulls it open, letting the cool air pool around her bare feet as she rubs her eyes. Monday nights— _no, Tuesday mornings_ —Laura thinks, are awful. She loves her lit class, she really does, but that midterm paper is going to be the death of her.

She scowls and kicks aside an errant black boot. On second thought, maybe her vampiric roommate with no regard for organization or cleanliness will be the death of her, and not even because she’s a vampire.

Laura pauses as she swings the fridge door shut.

The curtains on the window stare at Laura, as if daring her to open them. She glares back—pretending that glaring at inanimate objects was the weirdest part of her life—and pulls one curtain to the side. She stands in that position she sometimes finds Carmilla in, staring to the sky.

The stars blink at her.

They remind her of diamonds.

She huffs, throwing the curtains back down and tearing her eyes away from the stars.

No, she doesn’t get it.

 

-

 

_Worst. Crush. Ever_.

Laura lets herself fall, face-first, onto the bed. Feelings are stupid. Crushes are stupid. In the midst of supernatural mysteries and life-threatening escapades, she had somehow forgotten to keep her attractions in check.

And it was _Carmilla_ , of all people.

She groans, too frustrated to move off the bed, too exasperated with herself to care if her roommate had heard her.

_Like it matters,_ Laura thinks, with dawning horror and realization.

_She already knows_.

But she can’t help the way her mind is still reeling from interlocked fingers, or how her cheeks are still warm from analogies to 1698. She wonders how LaF knew before she did, and she wonders if Perry was part of this conspiracy all along.

Carmilla. Stupid vampire Carmilla with her “seduction eyes” and leather pants and philosophical words and poetic language. Horrible roommate Carmilla who would throw herself in front of Laura when it came down to mushrooms and libraries. Awful, wonderful Carmilla who held so much baggage but had the gentlest of touches.

_And_ , Laura reflects, after a moment, _Laura, who’s lying on a bed that smells like Carmilla who has fallen a little harder than she wanted to_.

She groans again.

 

-

 

_We’re done_.

What is done?

What is there to throw away?

Laura lets the words fall from her lips anyway, wondering to herself if they were as devoid of meaning as all of _her_ words had been. She had almost believed her, too. She wanted to believe so badly.

Kirsch never deserved to be part of this. SJ didn’t deserve this. LaF and Perry, and Danny, and Natalie and Elsie and Betty.

Laura laughs to herself, the bitterness coating her tongue. Her own words ring in her ears.

_“Hell, even you deserve better.”_

Had everything in the past few months been fake? What was a 19-year-old girl supposed to know about… this? There is evil to be fought and monsters to be killed, but in the end, where did _she_ stand? Laura knows she is far from any valiant knight, but Danny and LaF and Perry are unstoppable.

What side had her roommate been on, all this time?

Laura simply does not understand how the world works. She could let everything fall into place—let everything fall apart—and she would be safe. She could graduate from Silas, no more harmed than she already had been, and find a new roommate. She could go home to her dad, tell him all about _Beowulf_ and Jane Austen and how the alchemy club at Silas had some weird fixation on fish.

And when he asks if she made any new friends, she would put on a smile and tell him all about some girl that never existed.

Laura swallows thickly.

No, she can’t do it.

She can’t hate Carmilla, and she doesn’t know why she can’t. She has every reason to, but she clings on to some ephemeral hope that there’s something else she doesn't understand about the girl, because that’s the only way Laura can keep herself together right now.

Perry whispers soothing words to LaF behind Laura. Carmilla’s bed is deafeningly empty. Her camera light stares emptily at Laura, and her mouth is forming words before Laura thinks them.

_“Dad…_ ” she begins. Her heart clenches, thinking of the last time she saw him, wondering if that would be the last time she would _ever_ see him. Regret is an incredible thing, really.  _“I love you,”_  she adds helplessly at the end, a lump in her throat.

When it comes to goodbyes, though, only one other person comes to mind.

_“And Carmilla… if you’re watching this_ … _”_

I believe you?

I need you?

I love you?

Laura is at a loss.

_“…you know.”_

 

-

 

_I miss you_.

That’s what Laura wanted to say, she realizes.

_Carmilla, if you’re watching this, please come back. I believe everything you said. You gave up everything for me. You were never a monster, Carmilla, I knew that all along._

_I need you. You thought I would be the one to save you, but I knew you’d be the hero all along. Who am I supposed to buy cupcakes for now, Carmilla? I need you here with me, I’ll never tell you to clean the dishes again, I’ll let you use my pillow. When you said you’d leave when I got Betty back, I meant it then, but that was before everything. Please, Carmilla._

_Carmilla, tell me you’re not gone._

Laura says those three words to the camera, and they’re not the three words she ever wanted to say.

_And Carmilla’s dead._

She tries to hold back tears. She said them, hoping to be proven wrong at any moment. It couldn’t be real, right? This isn’t what college is supposed to be at all. She wasn’t supposed to be sporting blood on her face. She shouldn’t be hosting a room full of terrified girls and a Zeta, all with varying degrees of injury.

She misses when it was just _worst roommate ever_ and _I need to finish my lit paper_ , not… all of this.

Not any of this.

Carmilla and her stupid heroics. Carmilla should be standing behind her chair right now, beside Danny and Kirsch, and they should be celebrating an unexpected victory.

Laura turns off her camera, putting her head down on her desk.

She will wait as long as it takes for Carmilla to come back to her.

**Author's Note:**

> title from Fire Rides by MØ.
> 
> Turns out, this is what you get when you mix trying to read Hamlet for class while watching Carmilla at the same time. Someone come cry with me. Bring blankets and chocolate.


End file.
